


gonna be warm this winter

by olive2read



Series: The 12 Bottles of Christmas [5]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Candy Canes, F/F, Figure Skating as Seduction, Masturbation, Podfic Welcome, Rare Pairings, SC Timeline Handwaving, Snow in Schitt's Creek!, Voyeurism, Wine, funishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-26 17:43:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20934164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olive2read/pseuds/olive2read
Summary: Stevie secretly, or so she thinks, loves to watch figure skating. Twyla calls her on it and forces her to watch ... other things as funishment.__And featuring the next two bottles.





	gonna be warm this winter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[art] gonna be warm this winter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016160) by [nervouscupcakeinspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervouscupcakeinspace/pseuds/nervouscupcakeinspace). 
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCFrozenOver](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver) collection. 

> **Prompt**:  
Stevie secretly loves watching figure skating, and Twyla (who loves it and used to figure skate) finds out and they watch together. Romance ensues.
> 
> __  
Title from Kylie Minogue's "I'm Gonna Be Warm This Winter"
> 
> Thank you to Distractivate and thegrayness for all their suggestions for winterising the motel.
> 
> Thanks also to Delilah McMuffin for reminding me of my love for Barenaked Ladies. I hope you enjoy the easter eggs I left! 
> 
> Enormous thanks to Emu for the constant and unflagging support with all my CanCon questions!
> 
> And, finally, to [sonlali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali) -AND- [cupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervouscupcakeinspace), for EVERYTHING.

Stevie locked the motel office and bundled her arms around herself. The snowfall this season seemed somehow more intense than it had in the past few years and, though she still resented the loss of her favourite scarf, she really needed to bite the bullet and update her winter wardrobe. The motel was doing well consistently enough that she could justify the expense. To be honest, she could have a couple of weeks ago when the snow started coming down in earnest, but she really hated shopping and she couldn’t abide any of the artisanal fashion scarves David carried. Plus, after last week, the _last_ thing she wanted was anything associated with alpacas.

She began the short trek home, wishing her coat, hoodie, and toque combo did a better job of blocking the biting wind. Parts of her, her nose and ears most vocally, wanted her to promise herself that tomorrow she would drive the few blocks to work. The rest of her refused to get on board with this plan as that would mean she couldn’t take what was fast becoming her favourite short-cut through the woods. Short-cut was, perhaps, a bit of a misnomer, since the route was about the same length but generally took at least half an hour longer. The added time wasn’t due to any difficulty traversing the woods, Stevie may not have been as outdoorsy as some but she knew her way around the trails, but was wholly based on the fact that the route passed the small pond. The small pond that was frozen enough for ice skating. It may not have been able to support multiple skaters but it only needed to manage one.

As Stevie approached the fork in the trail leading to the pond, she slowed down. There wasn’t a great way to muffle or hide her steps down the path but she figured it was worth a shot to at least make the attempt. She crept closer and closer, scanning constantly for signs that anyone else was around and smiling to herself when she reached the small hunting blind she’d created two days ago on a rare day off. Normally when Mr. Rose suggested she take time off, she shrugged off his concern about how much she was working considering he put in just as many hours and tended to bustle about more actively than she did. 

They’d spent the last week furiously working through a whole host of winterising tasks that probably should have been done awhile ago but, what with bookings down and Stevie trying to run the place on her own and there not being much snowfall in the past few years, she’d been putting most of them off. Stevie had redone the weather stripping around all of the doors and windows, put up that obnoxious plastic window film that Mr. Rose insisted would help but that she was pretty sure was a scam, reprogrammed the thermostats, driven Roland’s truck all over Elmdale to scavenge for deicing salt - meaning she’d somehow had to manage _not_ to roll her eyes at every supposedly well-meaning jerk who’d pointed out that she should’ve stockpiled her salt sooner, and countless other things. Roland and Mr. Rose had each been assigned a list of things at least as long as her own, and she hadn’t missed the way Mr. Rose had surreptitiously moved stuff from her list to his (nor had she complained about the shift). If she never had to think about another filter or change another battery or look at another shovel, then she would be well pleased with how her life turned out.

So, of course, after three days of winter preparation fervour, she’d jumped at the chance for a day off. Mr. Rose had been more than a little startled and clearly pleased that Stevie was taking his advice and she was glad she could give him that, even if his assumptions about her reasons weren’t technically correct. She’d woken up late, had a luxuriously lazy cup of coffee, walked slowly through town, waved and smiled at Twyla through the café windows, and then made her way out here to the pond trail to look for the best place to build herself a blind.

The first few times she’d hidden behind a tree and watched until her nose was numb. Mr. Rose insisting she take Thursday off had been such an excellent opportunity to improve her viewing conditions. It wasn’t a particularly fancy or large blind, it had been too cold and snowy for Stevie to gather much in the way of materials, but luckily it didn’t need to be since she wasn’t exactly using it to hunt. Between the darkness and the muted colours of her coat and toque, the blind was really more of a windbreak than any real measure of concealment. She hunkered down, ignoring the faint protest of muscles that she’d forced to do more in the past week than in the past three years, and pulled her thermos out of her bag. She poured herself a cup of cocoa and only then allowed her senses to absorb the scene before her.

She marvelled at the swish and scrape of the blades on the ice, the muted smell of evergreens and loamy soil, nearly overpowered by the sweet, warm, rich chocolate scent wafting up from the cocoa, the zing of the peppermint schnapps she’d laced it with, the dappled moonlight filtering down through the trees, and the brighter sparkle glinting off the surface of the pond. And then, of course, there was the skater herself.

If Stevie hadn’t been able to see the connection between the skates and the surface of the pond, she’d have sworn Twyla was floating along like some winter sprite. She was focused entirely inwards, another reason Stevie had been able to watch undetected, as she spun and twirled and leapt. Her face was an entrancing mixture of serenity and joy and, looking at her, Stevie could well believe all the ancient stories about humans bedazzled by fae creatures. She was coming to believe that, unlike the old stories, Twyla wasn’t the sort to lure her to her doom.

She shook her head, slightly exasperated with the dreamily poetic turn her thoughts had taken but she could no longer repress her growing fondness for this new state of being. She’d tried to maintain her wry aloofness over the past few weeks, tried to remind herself that she and romance were not currently on speaking terms, but it was a losing battle and she was starting to appreciate the long, slow slide into once more being a person that acknowledged having feelings.

Not that she was suddenly happy about having them. She still had a lot of resentment toward romance, toward love in general really, and the many ways it had jerked her around throughout her life. Spending time with Twyla, falling for Twyla if she was being honest with herself, was beginning to gently peel back her layers. She chortled quietly to herself at the thought of the literal peeling back of layers they’d been doing lately. Everything they'd done so far had been incredibly hot and she was very excited to see where things went in that regard. She had no complaints or concerns about the physical aspects of this attraction. 

The emotional aspects were more of a mixed bag. When she’d first seen Shrek back in high school, his onion simile had resonated deeply - especially the bit about not caring what other people liked - and she’d taken it into her heart gladly. She didn’t think of herself as an ogre, not really, but it had been the first time she’d found anything that felt so true for the way she saw herself and it went so far beyond having layers and not caring about the opinions of other people in how she identified. She _liked_ being something that was pleasant enough so long as you didn’t mess with it, but had a sharp taste that bit back when people tried to sink their teeth in, something that would make you cry if you cut it. Now she felt like she was losing that edge, like Twyla was roasting her low and slow to bring out all of her inner sweetness and soften her walls.

She sighed and took a healthy swig of minty cocoa. Ever since Twyla had dropped off those incredible peppermint cookies, she couldn’t seem to get enough of the flavour. Schnapps and cocoa had replaced her wine for the past few nights, not that she was avoiding her special Christmas case or anything, she was just finding herself craving the rich coolness of peppermint. She didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but she’d been missing Twyla over the past week. All the extra work at the hotel and her exhaustion by the time she crawled into bed meant that these covert glances were all she had to keep her going. The mint reminded her of Twyla and soothed the ache she still kind of wanted to pretend didn’t exist. Besides, hot cocoa and schnapps were the perfect drink to bring on a secret wintry escapade.

It wasn’t that Stevie didn’t like the softer sides of her nature, nor that she didn’t want to share them with Twyla. She’d love to let go of the various defence mechanisms she had in place to keep her layers closed off and sealed up tight. That said, she’d been burned too many times and, for all that this time felt different, she worried that she might lose herself in this thing between them. So despite the fact that she’d confessed some of her deepest secrets to Twyla recently, there were still some cards she was holding close to her vest and her long-standing love of figure skating was one of them.

She watched all of the televised competitions she could find, no matter how tiny or regional. In fact, the more obscure, the better. She loved the Olympics and other elite competitions, it was incredible to see skating at that level, but she wasn’t interested only in skill. She loved the pageantry of it all and those events tended to be so strict and formal. Stevie lived for the garish costumes and awkward musical choices, the more unfortunate the better, the helicopter parent train wrecks, the coaches, whether coldly stoic or explosively volatile, and, of course, the skating and the skaters. The people who spent months and years training for a maximum of seven minutes toward a shot at glory, split over two programs. The idea of expending so much effort for such a small window of opportunity baffled and enthralled her in equal measure.

She hadn’t even known Twyla skated until she’d decided to walk home through the woods on Monday and caught a glimpse through the trees. She’d only come this way in the hopes of avoiding Roland, and his unsubtle hints that he and Jocelyn needed a babysitter right around the same time Stevie was scheduled to be off; the last thing she wanted to do after a day of heavy winter labour was chase after a toddler. As she’d tromped along the trail that first time, she’d been so caught up in the cold and the day and her protesting muscles that she’d nearly missed it. She wasn’t entirely sure what had made her turn her head. She’d heard a faint noise, or caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye, or _something_, and had glanced toward the pond just in time to see Twyla leap into a stunning Triple Lutz. [1]

She’d been utterly transfixed. Her breath had stopped. Twyla wasn’t wearing a sparkly costume, she had on what looked like a pair of thick yoga pants and a hoodie with arms that hooked over her thumbs, but she’d been the most enchanting skater Stevie had ever seen. She’d stood and watched, riveted, until Twyla had skated over to the far edge of the pond, stepped off, swapped her skates for boots, and headed deeper into the woods. Stevie was pretty fortunate she’d stopped when she had, actually, because her tired muscles had groused at her when she’d tried to get moving toward home again. Any longer standing there and she might’ve been stuck for real.

She’d passed by the pond on her way home ever since, setting a timer on her phone so that she didn’t repeat the mistake of staying too long in the cold without moving. Plus she’d been bringing a thermos of minty cocoa to help keep her warm, and, now that she had the blind, hunkering down in her cosy shelter helped too. 

Twyla didn’t seem to be doing anything fancy tonight, just flowing through a few simple turns and spins, but even so she was captivating. Stevie’s timer went off and she sighed, finishing the last of her cocoa and putting away her thermos. She stood and lingered, knowing she needed to get moving and unable to tear herself away. Her devotion was rewarded as Twyla suddenly crouched into a sit spin that evolved into a gorgeous Biellmann Spin. [2] She could feel her smile threatening to overcome her entire face the whole walk home.

* * *

The next morning, Stevie took advantage of her second day off this week to catch up on the skating news. Mr. Rose had beamed and teared up when Stevie didn’t push back at his suggestion she take another day and Stevie had submitted uncomplaining to his awkward hug rather than explain that the uptick in business at the motel had severely reduced the time she had available to follow skating. She didn't resent the motel's new prosperity, and she definitely appreciated Mr. Rose's efforts and support, she was just a little behind on the news. Especially seeing as she wasn’t about to continue her former method of watching the competitions on mute in the office now that Mr. Rose and Roland were constantly underfoot.

The Elmdale Regionals had begun the day before and would continue through the weekend. Today’s schedule included the free skates for juniors and seniors and she lingered over her breakfast as the talking heads debated which of the local hopefuls had the best chance of moving on to the Ontario Sectionals, which might then qualify them to compete in Skate Canada.

Her brow furrowed at the knock on her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone so it was most likely her nosy neighbour, Troy, wondering why Stevie hadn’t yet left for the motel and no doubt ready to share any gossip he could wring from her with the other local busybodies down at the garage. Frankly, Troy could go hang. Stevie wasn’t going to miss a minute of this just to reassure him that she was still her surly self, and the motel hadn’t burned down, or gone under due to her inattention, or any of the other outlandish scenarios he’d come up with any time she took a break.

When a second knock came, for a moment her jaw clenched and her shoulders curled but then a new thought occurred to her and she found herself relaxing, a soft smile sneaking up on her. Her logical mind dismissed the idea as irrationally hopeful but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was _Twyla_, not Troy, on the other side of her door. She got up and padded toward the door, running her fingers through her hair and wishing she was wearing something other than her fleece pyjama pants with the nesting doll yetis and her “It means I have a **QUANTUM VAGINA**” shirt, [3] biting her lip in anticipation.

Sure enough, the door swung open to reveal Twyla, in a bright red Christmas sweater with snow and reindeer and two candy canes forming what looked like an upside down heart around the words “Lick It Slowly.” Stevie choked as she realised those candy canes probably weren’t forming a heart ... She looked up at Twyla, who was smiling broadly at her and holding out a plate of those incredible peppermint cookies. Stevie felt her mouth open but her brain wasn’t quite able to make words happen.

“Hi, Stevie!” Twyla said brightly, stepping forward. Stevie automatically stepped back and suddenly Twyla was in her apartment, looking scrumptious, and with delicious cookies too, and ... and there was figure skating on her tv.

She felt her eyes widen and risked a glance at the tv. Right now only the talking heads were in the frame so she could potentially turn it off before her secret was revealed. She sidled furtively toward the television.

“I was just, um,” she began, as she got close enough to reach for the remote, “flipping through the channels.” Okay, yeah, that was a viable excuse. She exhaled in relief. As she touched the power button, her heart clenched and she hoped her wince wasn’t visible. She hadn’t even gotten to see a single program yet. 

Twyla grinned and grabbed her hand, stopping her from clicking the set off. “Oh, no, Stevie, don’t do that on my account.” She gave Stevie a sly look. “I was actually hoping that we could watch together.”

Stevie blinked at her. “W-watch what together?”

Twyla giggled and shook her head. “It’s alright, Stevie.” She set the plate of cookies down and stepped closer, sliding her arms around Stevie’s hips and linking her hands behind Stevie’s back. “You know I know, right?”

She couldn’t mean ... she couldn’t _know_! Stevie had been _so_ careful! It might not have been the best tactic at this point but her mouth decided to continue feigning ignorance. “Know what?”

Twyla kissed her. Stevie was stiff and awkward at first, still caught up in her anxiety, but Twyla was patient and didn’t push, just let her lips rest gently against Stevie’s until Stevie felt herself relax into the familiar feel of Twyla’s mouth. Her hands came up and wrapped themselves around Twyla’s neck, seemingly of their own volition, and she tugged her closer until their bodies were pressed against each other from lips to hips. Damn, she’d missed this. 

_“And now, taking the ice for the first time since her disastrous fall in June, Jane St. Clair from Thornbridge.”_

Stevie pulled back with a gasp, unable to stop herself from turning toward the television. Jane St. Clair had long been a favourite and was one of the skaters she was most excited to see today. She was fairly certain this competition would be her big comeback and she didn’t want to miss it.

Twyla laughed and kissed Stevie’s cheek. “Go! I know how much you enjoy watching,” she said, giving Stevie a little push toward the couch. “I’ll make us some cocoa.”

Stevie felt her face flame and nodded sheepishly, hurrying over to sit down. She cheered when Jane landed her first Triple Axel, moving seamlessly into the Triple Toe Loop. [4] That was the combination that she’d missed in June, crashing to the ice unable to complete her program. Stevie was so happy to see her in such good form.

Twyla brought her a mug of cocoa with a candy cane in it and handed her two cookies, then sat next to her, cuddling close. She must have brought the candy canes with her, as Stevie was sure she didn’t have any. Stevie debated about whether or not to tell Twyla where to find her special stash of mini marshmallows for the cocoa but ultimately held back. She knew deep down that she could trust Twyla, and her long abiding love for mini marshmallows was a fairly innocuous piece of information to share, but she was feeling a little too exposed right now.

“I’m so proud of her,” Twyla enthused. “I’ve been so worried about how Regionals would be for her, she’s such a marvellous skater. I fretted so much after she fell and the commentators were such jerks. Is she your favourite too?” 

Stevie felt her face heat again and took a big bite of cookie to keep from having to answer. 

Twyla leaned in until her lips were right up against Stevie’s ear. “Don’t worry, Stevie,” she whispered, sending shivers all through Stevie’s body, “your secret is safe with me.” She trailed her lips down Stevie’s throat and sucked lightly at the junction of her collarbone and sternum. Stevie groaned. Twyla sat up and took Stevie’s free hand, giving her a mischievous smile. “And we can discuss your penchant for voyeurism later.”

Stevie gulped and nodded. “How long have you known?”

Twyla laughed and swooped in to kiss her on the tip of her nose. “Since the first time, silly goose. I could feel the warmth of your presence and the joy it gave you only enhanced mine. Besides,” her smile turned sly and she kissed Stevie again, on this mouth this time and much more thoroughly, “I liked the idea of you watching me. It’s something I’ve thought a lot about over the past few nights. The heat of your eyes on my skin ...” She trailed off and wriggled in pleasure.

Stevie stared at her, breathless and tingling. “That sounds, um, I, um, wow.” She swallowed and tried to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of order. “Yes, I would like that. I would like to hear more about that.” 

Twyla kissed the tip of her nose again. “Oh, you will. Later.” Stevie opened her mouth to protest and Twyla cut her off. “We’ve got all day, Stevie, and I know how much you’ve been looking forward to this.” She picked up her mug of cocoa and snuggled close into Stevie’s side, her free hand drifting down to land on Stevie’s thigh. “Good things will definitely come to you as a reward for waiting.”

When the hand did nothing more than give her a light squeeze, Stevie unfroze enough to grab her own mug. She kissed the bit of Twyla’s forehead closest to her, eliciting a pleased “hmm” sound, and tried to calm her body so that she could understand what was happening on the screen as Felicity Gordon from Brampton took the ice. 

They spent the rest of the day watching the Regionals, discussing the chances of the different skaters, celebrating the wisdom of the judges with Jane St. Clair’s podium placement, and disparaging the obvious blindness of the judges in neglecting to advance Brianne Wilson. They finished the cookies and cocoa, then made kraft dinner and shared a bottle of wine, then another, though Stevie was only allowed to open the wine once Twyla had muttered something and waved her hands over the Christmas case.

It was a splendid day and Stevie felt replete and content, curled around Twyla on the couch, kissing and touching and giddy with happiness. She’d completely forgotten about Twyla’s promises for later, at least until Twyla paused their enthusiastic kissing and nudged her to sit up. 

Stevie swallowed, her tongue suddenly too big for a mouth gone dry as the Sahara, as Twyla stood and shucked her sweater, then shimmied out of her jeans and underwear. She put her sweater on the opposite end of the couch and sat down on it, her back against the arm of the sofa as she faced Stevie. She bent her inside knee up, putting her foot on the couch and leaning her leg against the back, as she spread herself and rested her other foot on the floor, giving a clear view of her glistening folds.

Twyla slid a hand slowly, so very slowly, down her body and traced the edges of her labia teasingly as Stevie sat riveted, her breath coming faster and faster. She scooted forward, leaning in, hand outstretched. Twyla slapped her playfully aside.

“Ah ah ah,” she chided. “You’re going to watch, Stevie.”

“But,” Stevie whined, “I want to do more than watch!”

Twyla grinned and circled her clitoris lazily with her index and middle fingers. “Well, maybe, if you’re good for me, if you’re patient, you can have more later.”

Stevie nodded vigorously. “Ok, yes, patient, I can be patient.” She wasn’t entirely sure that was true, patience certainly wasn’t a virtue she’d ever laid claim to, but she was willing to agree to almost anything as Twyla’s fingers began to speed up.

Stevie couldn’t decide where to look and her eyes darted around wildly, drinking in the sight of so much of Twyla’s beautiful skin. She wished she had the multi-faceted compound eyes of a bee so that she could focus each lens on a different aspect of the erotic scene in front of her. Twyla gasped and moaned, arching back over the arm of the sofa, her breasts rising and falling invitingly with each breath.

Not being able to touch was torturous, when Stevie knew _just_ how soft that glorious flushed skin would be under her fingers, and she was fighting hard to stifle the urge to confirm her memories and create new ones. Stevie shoved her hands under her legs to keep from reaching out to follow the haphazard path of her gaze. 

Stevie’s hips gave an involuntary jerk as Twyla lifted her head just enough to meet Stevie’s eyes. “Look at me,” Twyla gasped.

Stevie’s breath exploded out of her body as her gaze locked with Twyla’s. 

“I knew it would be like this,” Twyla panted, “knew your eyes on me would burn.” She groaned again and Stevie couldn’t help but groan in response. “This is what I’ve done,” Twyla continued, “every night after you watch me skate.”

Stevie felt beads of sweat trickling down the side of her face and couldn’t be bothered to wipe them away. “Every night?” she asked, just as breathless as Twyla.

“Every night,” Twyla confirmed, in between gasps. “I go home,” gasp, “and touch myself,” pant, “just like this,” gasp, “remembering,” pant, “the feel of you,” gasp, “watching me.”

At that, Twyla cried out, breaking eye contact as her back arched and her body shuddered. Her fingers kept up their rapid pace and it took every bit of willpower Stevie could muster to sit back and watch as Twyla came apart in front of her.

When Twyla relaxed enough to slide back down into a semi-seated position, Stevie couldn’t hold back any longer. She pounced on Twyla and claimed her mouth, pouring all of the pent up passion she’d kept leashed into the kiss. Twyla smiled against her mouth and kissed her back languorously.

Twyla wore a dreamy expression on her face as they finally paused to catch their breaths. Stevie stood and held out a hand to her, pulling her gently to her feet and giving her a playful shove toward the bed.

“I’m done watching,” she declared, “and if you thought my gaze was hot, just wait until you feel the warmth of my hands.” She pulled off her pyjamas, before joining Twyla on her bed, and spent the rest of the night proving just how warm her hands could keep Twyla.

**Author's Note:**

> **1** If you'd like to see an example of the Triple Lutz jump Stevie saw Twyla perform, [here is a lovely one](https://youtu.be/zdBix3Cz_SE) from Yuzuru Hanyu. [return to fic]
> 
> **2** For a look at the Biellman Spin referenced, [here Yuzu is again](https://youtu.be/1Vx1L2kx9Q4). The very beginning of the video is him coming out of a sit spin, so you get a sense of the combination Twyla did. [return to fic]
> 
> **3** Stevie's pyjama tshirt comes from a panel of [this comic](http://www.escapistmagazine.com/articles/view/comicsandcosplay/comics/critical-miss/10024-On-Reviews). [return to fic]
> 
> **4** If you want to watch the Triple Axel and Triple Toe Loop combination that put Jane St. Clair on the podium at Elmdale Regionals, [here is Rika Kihira](https://youtu.be/RR1WrKfXI38) performing one. [return to fic]

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[art] gonna be warm this winter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016160) by [nervouscupcakeinspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervouscupcakeinspace/pseuds/nervouscupcakeinspace)


End file.
